


A Glimpse

by piecrumbs



Series: in motion [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Light Bondage, Loki Has Issues, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 21:02:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piecrumbs/pseuds/piecrumbs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little/ perhaps not a word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Glimpse

Loki fucks, Jim learns, much as he does everything else: with a single-minded intensity that borders on manic obsession, and a seriously ( _unhealthily_ ) heavy dose of self-loathing. He craves control, demands it, _claims_ it--and then can't handle it, needs to have it wrested from him. He's angry, possessive, and the most mercurial being of anyone Jim's ever met, _including_ that race of aliens who literally had mercury running through their veins.

Luckily for them both, Jim loves it. He loves it when Loki throws him up against a wall (a door, a window giving them a glimpse of the vastness of space outside, the fucking console on the bridge when no one's around) and kisses Jim like it's the only way he can breathe. Jim loves it when Loki holds him down, leaving fingerprint-bruises that peek out from beneath the sleeves of shirt when he extends his arms, and just _looks_ at him, looks at him as if memorizing him down to his every last scar and freckle. He loves it when Loki sinks to his knees (that's pretty much the only time he ever sees Loki kneel and it gets him going every time) and pins his hips in place to swallow him down like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Silvertongue indeed, fuck.

His favourite look, though, starts when Loki is sitting on him, pinning him down and, oh, Jim's long past the point of begging, the fucking _tease_ , but he's still quite unable to do anything more than buck up in irritation because his wrists are bound above his head and his legs spread open and there's nothing actually there but Loki's only ever gotten more adept at using his spells for things they weren't designed to do. When Loki is sitting on his hips and his pupils are blown so wide there's almost nothing left of his iris but a thin line of green and he's flushed down to his chest, the color bright on his pale, pale skin and _god_ , that's a rush (no pun intended), knowing that he's the one that got Loki to this point.

Even if Loki's the one that technically did all the work.

But then Loki rises up on his knees, takes a moment to laugh (Come _on_ , Jim pleads, hips rolling uselessly in place at the sound of Loki's voice, low and hoarse, and Jim knows he's just as affected, even _if_ his voice is frustratingly steady as he drawls out a cool _patience, Captain_ ) before he sinks down, down, and Jim's mind shorts the fuck out because Loki is hot and tight and so perfect around him.

Someone once said (and it might've been Jim himself, might've been a passing thought in Jim's mind that he's drawing from) that Loki touches him like he _worships_ him. A false god, by a false man. God and priest reversed, a religion without rules without cadence without any rhyme or reason but the steady rise and fall of skin against skin, breath against breath.

Jim loves it when Loki loses himself. Loki, who can hold spells through the worst of pain and the strain of hate. Loki, who he's seen hold on beyond any reasonable limitations until he chooses to let go, laughing through the blood that stains his lips. Jim loves it when Loki loses himself and the spells holding him still flicker, weaken, and Jim can twist his hips, shove up and move in a way that strains his muscles and hurts his arms. But it leaves him pressing Loki into the bed beneath him

_( control taken )_

so he can lace their fingers together, kiss him gently and move at his own pace. Slow and gentle until Loki's the one cursing and struggling and demanding more (he doesn't beg), though he never fights free. They both know he could, the strength of a man can never match that of a god, but he hooks a leg around Jim's hips and draws him in and Jim laughs against his lips because he likes it hard and fast too, but really, watching Loki lose himself to want is beautiful the way a forest fire is beautiful, a tsunami, a black hole. Powerful and uncontrollable and as destructive to himself as he is to everyone around him.

And when they've finished and Loki is sprawled out across his chest and says with all the confidence of someone entirely sure he can follow through, _If you move, I'll claw your eyes out_ (Jim believes him), that's his favourite look. Because Loki is boneless and loose and, for that brief moment, utterly _content_ with the world as their skin cools. Because Loki lets him bury his fingers into the thick waves of dark hair and watches him with lazy, half-lidded eyes. Because when he tugs Loki over to kiss him, his eyelashes are dark smudges against cheeks that are still flushed and ruddy and he can feel the sting in his back where Loki's nails broke the skin and they're both sore and sticky and utterly _filthy_ , in the best of ways.

That's his favourite look because it's Loki, unguarded and open without there needing to be pain and trauma of any sort. Because when he whispers something stupid and ridiculously sappy into the air between them, Loki laughs, low and amused and accepts it.

Some people might say that you could learn a lot about Loki by the way he has sex. But Jim knows Loki, has known him longer and knows him better than almost anyone else in this universe and the next. And Jim knows that Loki's not reflected in the way he fucks; it's that Loki fucks much the way he does everything else.

**Author's Note:**

> [A Glimpse](http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-glimpse/) by Walt Whitman


End file.
